


Unsteady

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life [23]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8839429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Pulling back, he feathered his lips over hers before unlocking his hands from behind her back and holding her elbow lightly as she slipped down to the floor, “I’ll see you when I’m done.”





	

Back in their room after they’d had dinner and went to see some fantastically terrible disaster movie at the local dollar movie theater, Scully stopped mid-shoe fling, “there’s only one bed in here.”

With a smile, “How the hell did you ever get beyond the academy, little miss observant? It was here when we checked in and you face-planted in the pillow for a nap.”

“I didn’t realize there was only one bed though. I thought we just fell asleep on the same one.”

“Nope. When I checked in, I wasn’t paying attention and managed to agree to one king instead of two doubles. It’s cheaper though so score in that respect.”

Returning to her shoe removal, “cheaper is good.”

“Agreed.” Scooting past her, “tired?”

“Yeah.”

Yawning in her direction, “how’s your nose doing? Any better today?”

She breathed deep, “still feels strange and stuffed and dry and you haven’t mentioned it but I can only assume I was snoring like a madwoman last night?”

Just shrugging, “you quieted down eventually but I know it’s not your fault so I dealt with it.”

“Well, if I’m bad tonight, wake me up and I’ll get my own room.”

Pretty sure he’d never kick her out of his bed regardless of snoring, kicking, thrashing, screaming, bad breath or stinky feet, “it’s a king-size bed. I’ll just go to my own time zone on the other side of the mattress and you’ll be too far away to hear.”

“Deal.”

&&&&&&&&&&

He woke up not from her snoring but from her coughing, a wet crackling cough that sounded entirely too familiar, even though it had been almost two years since he’d heard it. Sitting up quickly, Mulder shook her shoulders, “Scully? Wake up.”

Lifting her head, she coughed again, the sound hauntingly familiar to her as well. Shifting up on her elbows instantly, she looked down at her pillow, “shit.”

There was a blood-red stain dead center of the pristine white pillowcase, still glistening, still wet and still terrifying as it had been years ago. Mulder shot out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom for a wet washcloth, trying his best to squelch the panic rising from the depths of his soul, attempting to choke him while he watched the water soak into the cheap cotton. Returning, he found Scully sitting up, her thermal shirt sleeve pressed to her nose, gratefully taking the wet cloth from him, “thanks.”

“Do you want to go clean up while I change your pillowcase?”

Looking at him, blood on her sleeve, washcloth firmly against her face, she talked through it, her voice muffled, “I tried to come in a second ago but got dizzy.” He could see the fear shining in her eyes, even in the dim light from the bathroom.

Kneeling down in front of her, he indicated to the washcloth, “still bleeding or all done?”

Testing a few times, “I think it’s done.”

Mulder took the cloth from her, refolding it, exchanging the splash of color for a still white section. Coming back to her face slowly, he gently wiped off the few stray smears she’d left behind. Then, laying the cloth on the carpet, he reached for the bottom hem of her thermal, “let’s get this off you, then I’ll go put everything to soak in the bathtub.”

“I can do it, Mulder.”

Not letting go, he pulled her shirt up an inch, “I know you can but let me help you anyways, okay? Give me something to do so I don’t freak out.”

Without a word, she raised her arms and he slipped the shirt over her head, revealing a slightly too small tank top hugging her frame. Using her thighs as leverage, he hoisted himself up, “back in a minute.”

He quickly pulled the pillow case off as well and taking all three items into the bathroom, pushed the door mostly closed behind him before leaning over the sink, his own gaunt, pale face staring back at him in the mirror. It couldn’t be that. It was the altitude and the weather change and the stuffed sinus’ and all the nose blowing.

The cancer couldn’t be back.

She had the chip in her neck.

She was fine.

She had to be fine.

He felt himself spiraling quickly and could only imagine what Scully was feeling so he shook his head, forced himself to shut the hell up and put the bloody items to soak in cold water. Once back in the main area, he found her still sitting, not having moved more than an inch in the last three minutes. Realizing paralyzing fear when he saw it, even though he knew she’d never admit to it, he moved to her suitcase, immediately aware that they needed to do laundry the next day and shifted to his own bag, pulling out a t-shirt. Walking it back to her, “I didn’t see anymore pajamas in your things so will this be all right?”

Barely making out her nod, he slowly worked it over her head, then maneuvered her arms through the proper holes. Next, he swapped her pillow for a hotel one, then coaxed her to lay down on it. Climbing in beside her, he scooted near, scared to see her so disconnected. Reaching out, he ran his hand down her cheek, feeling how cold they were under his palm. After moving even closer, he gathered her up, shifting her until she molded to him, freezing cold toes against his shins, frozen hands first over his shirt then up and under to rest on his warm skin. Pulling all available sheets and blankets over them, he gladly roasted beside her, hoping to bring her up at least a degree or two, hoping to counteract the shock that seemed to have sent her internal temperatures plummeting.

Before he could ask if she felt any warmer, she shifted her hand to his side, pulling at him lightly, trying to get closer to him and not succeeding but desperately wishing she could. “Mulder?”

Speaking softly into her hair, “yeah?”

“I don’t want to fall asleep.”

He understood, “I know. I don’t want to either.”

“What if I don’t wake up?”

Without a word, he rolled to his side, snaking his knee between her thighs, his hand going around her back, pulling her flush to him, her face buried just below his Adam’s apple, “don’t say that, please? Not now.”

“Will you stay awake with me?”

“I don’t think I could sleep tonight even if I tried.”

Another few minutes of stillness passed before, “it can’t be back, right? I mean, it’s got to be weather-related and altitude and all that, right?”

“Those are the same two sentences that have been running through my mind for the last 15 minutes, over and over and over until I’m pretty sure the gears in my head are going to seize up and smoke’s gonna come out my ears.”

Relaxing her grip on his ribs, she chose to begin running a finger over the bottom few, back and forth, “that wouldn’t be a good look for you.”

“Then let’s think about something else.”

Scully snorted into his shirt, “let’s think about where we should go after San Francisco? We could maybe go down the coast, find the warmest beach possible, maybe even down to the tip of Baja.”

“Is Baja even in the US?”

“Do we care?”

“Not at all.” Feeling a few of her more tense muscles relaxing under the distraction, Mulder continued, “should we learn how to surf?”

“You don’t know how?”

Completely surprised, “do you?”

“Sure. We learned when we lived in San Diego. I mean, I was never that good but I can ride the waves in. It’s ugly but I can do it.”

“If you can surf, why don’t you call me ‘dude’ more often … or ever, actually.”

“Surfing and duding are not synonymous, Mulder or else given you went to school in England, I ought to be demanding scones and boiled meat with every meal.”

“Point taken.”

They talked another hour easily but eventually, voices got quieter, sentences got slower, breathing got deeper until finally, he felt her settle heavily against him, her hand stopping mid-stroke along his spine. He was still wide awake but that was okay. His mind had calmed some in the face of logic and he knew that out of the two of them, she needed the sleep more than he did so he stayed aware and stayed still, praying to a God he was inching closer and closer to possibly believing in, that this was all just a terribly false nightmare.

&&&&&&&&&

He must have fallen asleep at some point, however, given he found himself opening his eyes, blinking at the pale yellow light filtering through the semi-shabby curtains that covered the window. He heard water running in the bathroom but since the door was open, he stumbled from the bed, leaning on the doorframe a moment later, watching Scully hunched over the sink, scrubbing the items from the night before. Wondering if she hadn’t noticed him, he cleared his throat, causing her to shoot him a look out the corner of her eye, “you are not as quiet as you think, Mr. Mulder.”

Resting his head against the doorframe as well, “I wasn’t trying to be. How’s the washing going?”

“Not bad. I think once everything goes through the washer, they’ll look fine. Which reminds me, we need a laundromat today. The dirty clothes bag is full.”

“Then we will find one and also do some more snack shopping. I’m running low on Pop-Tarts and granola bars. Also, there was this sign for a bridge that would be cool to see.”

“Then our day is planned. Want to stay here again tonight and get going in the morning?”

Mulder nodded, “I’ll go down in a few minutes and add a day.”

He remained stationary, watching her as she finished up, then, to his surprise, she moved towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist, “I’m going to be fine. This morning was just … … I’m going to be fine.”

“I know but what do you say to finding a hospital and maybe seeing it you can get an MRI or something? Just to make sure.”

Scully shook her head against him, “not today. Today, we have mundane life to deal with but if it happens again, I will.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

They watched the bungee jumpers on the bridge for awhile, Mulder doing his best to coax her into trying it but she steadfastly refused ‘on religious grounds’.

“Religious grounds? Where does it say in the bible that you can’t jump off a bridge with a rubber band tied around your ankle?”

“It doesn’t but I imagine God does not want me dying at the bottom of a canyon when I could have stayed alive perfectly easily at the top.” Giving him a half-grin, “why don’t you go?”

“No, thank you.”

“Scared of careening towards Earth at terminal velocity?”

“Well, when you use both careening and terminal, yes, that’s part of it but I wouldn’t mind the falling so much, I think, as I would the possible sudden stop at the end.”

She didn’t have a counter-argument for this so she just held his hand, watching people fling themselves off the trusses and scream in sheer terrified delight.

Later in the evening, they hauled their dirty clothes to the laundromat they’d found a few blocks down from the hotel. Scully attempted to sort colors but Mulder nudged her aside and simply tossed handfuls of items into three open washers in a row, shutting them with a satisfying bang, then, turning to her, he saw her pursed lips, “what? It’s not like there’s anything new in there to turn everything red or something.”

“It’s going to make the bleaching of the whites more difficult this way.”

Mulder grinned at her, “color-safe bleach.” Holding up the small packet he got from the soap vending machine, “Deal with that.”

Her mouth softened, now resigned in her amusement, “do you have quarters, Mr. Thinking Ahead?”

“Nope but I’ve got dollar bills to spare and a change machine in the corner.”

Scully eyed his wad of cash, “dare I ask where you got all the ones? Are you stripping on the side or something?”

“You found me out. I pole dance on party buses on the weekends.” The snort that echoed off the walls of the Laundromat warmed his heart and he shrugged at her, “or I changed out a $20 while I was picking up lunch earlier.”

“I like the thought of the stripper pole though.”

“Um …”

“Breathe, Mulder. I won’t make you dance in public.”

Oh, the things this implied and his voice hitched just enough to send a smiling Scully towards the change machine, pulling several bills from his hand as she went by, “in private?”

“If you ever find a motel room with a pole in the middle of it, you will have a captive audience of one.”

“You?”

“Me.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Once they had the machines going, Scully hoisted herself atop an empty one across the aisle from their clothes, talking animatedly at first to her partner but soon, slipping into silence, mesmerized by the swirl of cotton and flannel and soap. Mulder scooted himself beside her from his perch on the next machine until their thighs were touching. She didn’t react to his presence so he sat quietly, watching the colors spin with her.

When the indicator buzz of the finished machines didn’t move her, he patted her knee gently, “hey, you still in there?” Instead of the nod and smile he was expecting, she shook her head, not meeting his gaze. Laundry forgotten, he dropped to the ground, moving to stand in front of her, nudging her legs open to stand closer. She obliged but kept her head staring straight ahead, doing her best to avoid his questioning eyes. He took her by the chin, maneuvering her face downwards, forcing her to see him, “Where did you go?”

They were nearly eye-level with each other, Scully just a touch higher so when she tilted forward, meeting his forehead, he had to look up.

She didn’t answer his question, resting quietly against him, his arms snaking around her waist after a moment, pulling her towards him, hugging her as best he could. He didn’t move when the front door opened, admitting a couple with several laundry baskets between them and mid-argument about something stupidly mundane. They didn’t stop their fighting, not noticing or not caring about the quiet pair but Scully took this as her cue, “we should probably put everything in the dryers.”

He didn’t care. Moving his head against hers, his cheek sliding along until his mouth was beside her ear, “I’m going to hold you tonight while you fall asleep.”

“I’m going to hold you back.” Pressing her lips to his ear, she felt his eyelashes move against her as his eyes shut, “would you mind if I went back to the room?”

Pulling back, he feathered his lips over hers before unlocking his hands from behind her back and holding her elbow lightly as she slipped down to the floor, “I’ll see you when I’m done.”

She trailed her arm through his hand, curling her fingers around his for a moment before letting go, leaving him unanchored to his Scully, a thought from out of nowhere that terrified him. Reaching out, he snagged the back of her tshirt, “you want the keys?”

Shaking her head, “I’ll walk.”


End file.
